


Captivity

by MauveCat



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Captivity, M/M, Mind Games, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:13:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29298702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveCat/pseuds/MauveCat
Summary: After Varyyn is captured by Arachnid soldiers, General Lundgren pays him a visit.
Relationships: Diego Soto/Varyyn (Endless Summer)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Captivity

**Author's Note:**

> I alluded to this encounter in "So Lightly Here"... Varyyn had a very, very good reason for not wanting Lundgren anywhere near Diego.

I bite back a snarl as blood trickles from a cut in my wrist. I had hoped that cutting myself against my restraints would make it easier to pull my arm through and free myself, but it did not work. I will have to think of something else.

The Hydra came to this strange cell after I was brought here. As I was strapped to this table, I heard a soldier tell him that three warriors of her squad are dead by my hand. Good. I wish it had been more. It will be more when I free myself. If the Endless gives me strength, the Hydra’s smiling head will crown the pile of bodies I intend to leave behind me.

He had no smile as he stared down at me, his ghostly servant hovering behind him. For a moment that lasted barely more than a heartbeat, I thought I saw regret in her face. But then the Hydra turned on his heel and stalked away, and she followed obediently. In the instant before the door closed, I heard him say his son’s name. Aleister must be nearby, then, and probably Grace as well. I hope their accommodations are more comfortable than my own.

I have been here for hours. People in long white coats, guarded by soldiers of the Hydra, came to me a little while ago. One of them filled a small bottle with some of my blood and another scraped a fine blade against my skin; the blade did not draw blood, but it was tapped carefully against a small piece of glass. A third person carefully waved a glowing, humming wand above my body. None of these people bothered to speak to me, nor I to them. I do not know the purpose of the ritual they performed and I cannot worry about it now. I will worry about it after I have escaped.

The door slides back and a large man, perhaps a little larger than I am, walks through. His skin is dark and his head is bald, and he clenches a long tube of dark rolled leaves between his teeth. I have seen him before, if only briefly, when the Catalysts and I attempted to use the Hydra’s gate to return them to their own world. The bald man closes the door and leans against it; a flame sparks between his fingers and he holds the leaves to it until they catch fire. He breathes deeply of their acrid smoke, and then drags a metal chair to my side. “You look real lonely. Almost like you could use a little conversation.” He sits down, giving every appearance of perfect comfort. “So how’s it going?”

I do not answer this bald man. Conversation is the last thing I want.

My silence does not seem to bother him. “Don’t know why Rourke’s keeping you around,” he says, his tone almost friendly. “Said he wanted to do some experiments when he had some free time, poke around in your DNA a little.” He presses a fingertip to the trickle of blood running from the restraint holding my arm to the table, then smears a long curving path down the back of my hand. “Anything he wants to know about your genes, he could get from this.” I do not understand all of those words – Diego never spoke of _genes_ , or of whatever de-eh-nay is – but I know better than to betray any confusion or interest. When my captor stares into my eyes, he seems disappointed that his words did not have the effect on me that he wished. He hides it quickly, though, and he sits back a little. “I wonder if Rourke’s using you for bait?”

 _Bait_... that is a word that I know. Against my will, I remember a day several months before, when I took Diego out of Elyys’tel for an afternoon. Mauri and Paravet had diverted his guards’ attention so Diego and I could spend a few hours on a riverbank, fishing and talking and both of us pretending that his sense of freedom would not end as soon as we re-entered the city.... With an effort, I force my mind away from those memories. If the Hydra thinks that he can use me to draw my people into a trap, he is a fool. The Vaanti are warriors before all else. I would not be the first elyyshar to be killed by his enemies; my people will mourn me, and then they will avenge me. In any event, I was alone when I was captured. There were no other Vaanti to raise the alarm, and my absence would not be discovered until... until the Catalysts return from Quarr’tel, I realize.

Is that the Hydra’s plan? Does he think the Catalysts would be foolish enough to attempt to rescue me? No. Surely, they would never do anything so reckless... but I know that they would. It was reckless to battle my people when we attempted to capture them, but they did. It was reckless to try to rescue Diego, but they did. And if Diego asked them to rescue me...? Yes. For him, they _would_ be that reckless, I am sure of it. And if they do not come for my sake alone, it seems likely that Grace and Aleister are nearby. If they are here as well, the Catalysts will come.

The bald man still stares at me, and the frustration is burning in his eyes. Good. My expression has revealed nothing that he finds interesting. He takes the smoldering bundle of leaves from between his lips. He looks at the glowing tip, then at me. A smile touches his mouth, but not his eyes, as he says, “Not interested in talking, huh? That’s too bad. I just _hate_ the thought of you stuck in this room without anything to think about.” He slowly lowers the smoking leaves until I can feel the warmth of the burning end just above the skin of my hand.

So. He thinks that burning my flesh will convince me to talk with him? Fool. I have been burned before, though never deliberately, and I know what the pain is like. What kind of man does he think I am? I allow my scorn to show in my face, and I am rewarded when the disappointment in his own grows.

His expression clears, though, and he puts the leaves to his lips again and inhales deeply. “That’s okay. I can think of someone who wouldn’t be near as tough about getting burned.” I cannot keep my nose from wrinkling when he blows foul smoke in my face. “Don’t know why you act like you don’t understand what I’m saying to you. Got some pretty good intel from Sethi – she had six months to spy on you savages.” More words that I do not recognize. But _Sethi_ can only be another name for Lila. I remember Diego’s shock, and that of his friends, when they realized that she was the Hydra’s servant. “She said that the shrimp managed to teach you a lot more English than she expected.” He must be speaking of Diego, and it is harder, much harder, to control my reaction. My captor’s eyes narrow, and his smile widens. He leans back in his chair and he nods slowly. “We couldn’t track all of you after that shit with the Gate went down, but you made sure that _he_ made it out safe, didn’t ya?”

My fists clench, and I know that he sees.

“Thought so. So... when the kid was your prisoner, was he everyone’s pet, or just yours?” He tilts his head to one side at the low growl that I cannot keep from escaping my throat. “Yours, huh? Sounds pretty selfish to me. I’d have shared him – not with everyone, you know, just now and then. But whatever.” His eyes scan my body, and he raises his eyebrows as he lays an over-familiar hand on my thigh and squeezes gently. “You’re a lot bigger than him. Probably easy for you to make him do whatever you wanted. So... tell me.” His smile grows lewd and moist, and he lowers his voice. “Do you bother to grease yourself up for him first, or do you like to go in dry? Because that’s how I’ll take him. Don’t worry about missing out, though, I’ll make sure you get to watch – I’ll teach you both a thing or two. Nothing sweeter than the second right before the first – _Jesus_!” He barely manages to evade my fist when, heedless of the pain and the fresh blood that pours from my wrist, I force my hand from its metal restraint. But my roar brings soldiers at a run, and it is only moments before I am bound and helpless again.

“General, what the _hell –_ Mr. Rourke said no one was allowed to interview the Hostile without him!” A woman in a white coat is standing in the doorway, and her face is both furious and afraid.

“Yeah, yeah. Write me up if you want, Doc… _if_ you think that’s a good idea.” The bald man gets to his feet. “Sedate the freak. He’s gonna be trouble. And put one of those leaves you’re testing on his arm before Rourke comes back. I don’t need the son of a bitch whining at me because I let his science project get damaged.” As a long, thin needle bites into my arm and the world begins to blur and spin around me, he leans over me and grins. “Like I was saying – there’s nothing sweeter than the second before the first scream.” His gleaming eyes are the last thing I see before my vision goes dark.


End file.
